I posted this once before with the intention of begging her to return unto me...
I'm a coward. She knows this. I removed the posting before I thought she had seen it...
Knowing now she had an RSS feed, well, Am I a fool for believeing or just a believing fool?
Regardless... it is hers...
It's a cold and its a broken Hallelujah...
Thanks Jeff.
15 years ago
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Whether they thought me a fool, or merely foolish, in the end I was right.
She enters the familiar pub. There is no need to scan the room, yet, out of habit, she does so anyway. Traffic turned the hour long drive into almost two, and she knows her friends are waiting in the back room, as far as possible from the piano man who can make the most familiar Jimmy Buffet tune almost unrecognizable. Not coincidentally, their "usual" table is also next to the closest door to the smoking area.
The entire group, along with their various significant others (or, in some cases, the current flavor of the week) has shown up for the night. Knowing she would come alone, they have saved a single seat for her.
"Mudslide. Blended. Whipped Cream. No cherry. And a shot of Jameson's. Please." she tells the server when he finally notices the new addition to the group.
She'll sit at the table with her friends for the next hour or two, laughing, teasing, and telling stories before heading to the next place. The entire time, she'll play with the small glass, twisting it around, running her finger around the edge, raising it up and taking in it's scent, never once taking a sip.
Every once in a while, she'll dip her finger into the amber liquid, and run her finger over her lips, remembering a scotch-tinged kiss she has yet to taste.
Eventually, someone will raise the question, "Have you heard from him?"
She'll lower her eyes, and quietly answer, yet again, "No. But I will."
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